


Snapdragon

by KivaEmber



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Crossdressing, F/M, Het and Slash, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, M/M, Slow Build, Subterfuge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 10:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kageyama Family is in possession of the Dragon Stream, an artefact that they had ‘won’ several generations ago. The original owners? They want it back. This is where Yamato Hotsuin comes in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dragonness

Yamato was beginning to sympathise with the ordeal that women had to go through when it came to formal wear. Although the [uchikake](https://encrypted-tbn1.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTtIdl7zKmVIQ4mkbAoSeKBTPPKhXiU3oQSc7at212b0ccl2yvf) he was wearing was a bit more lightweight than others, the amount of layers he was wearing was almost enough to make him sweat. Thankfully the wedding kimono came with a fan, which he was utilising to its fullest capacity.

Makoto, his lieutenant, was nervously adjusting his [hair ornament](https://encrypted-tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSfHbQMRKhlz4L33ITwgFthC84KSxmNPQnjwt5fU2ltt5i394_c), and this would be fine if the dangling pieces didn’t constantly brush against his cheek with each anxious twitch.

“Sako,” Yamato snapped.

Makoto immediately pulled her hands away. “Sorry, sir.”

“It’s ‘ma’am’ now,” Yamato reminded her. “Remember, I’m Miyako Hotsuin.”

“Yes, si- ma’am,” Makoto corrected herself. She looked quite uncomfortable, even though she was wearing the less formal hōmongi. Makoto, being a soldier of the Hotsuin family, was far more used to wearing hakama than any formal wear like kimono.

Yamato continued to fan himself, patiently waiting while the Terminal was being set up. Normally there wouldn’t be a wait, but after almost two hundred years of feuding it was needless to say that the Hotsuin’s Terminal was no longer connected to Kageyama’s – in fact, there were traps and other things to remove in preparation of it.

Why did it choose today of all days to be sunny? Yamato supposed it was nice weather for a wedding, but it made those wearing the heavy formal cloths feel ready to combust at a moment’s notice. At least he was wearing very little make up. Yamato had inherited the pale beauty that all Hotsuin possessed, a beauty that needed very little help in enhancing. The only make up he had was some around his eyes to give him a ‘smoky’ effect, whatever that meant.

“If,” Makoto was looking a bit lost, like she wasn’t sure what exactly she was supposed to do in this situation. That was understandable. She was born a soldier and would die a soldier. She had no place in celebrations like these. “You look very beautiful, s- ma’am.”

“Thank you, Sako.”

“Mistress Hotsuin,” a young voice spoke up, and both Makoto and Yamato turned to one of the miko – her pale hair and visage denoted her as a member of the branch family. “The Terminal has been connected. We are ready to send you to the Kageyama’s.”

“Finally,” Yamato sighed, snapping his fan shut and tucking it into his obi. “I was beginning to die of boredom. Lead the way.”

* * *

 

The room that held the Terminal was underground. The air was cool, yet slightly stale, and it managed to appear too cavernous considering it was only a short distance beneath the Hotsuin estate. The very atmosphere prickled with energy, seals and traps both old and new in constant activation.

In the very centre of the room was a strange metallic contraption. It was a Terminal, and many of the spiritual powerful families possessed them. No one really knew where they came from, for the information was vague from any source regarding them, except that everyone seemed to agree that an Al Saiduq gifted them to humanity, whoever that supernatural being was.

It ran on lightning, so there was always an electricity seal placed upon it to feed it the energy it required, and five trained soldiers of the Hotsuin had to activate it with their spiritual power to send people through.

Yamato’s zori tapped softly against the stone floor as he strode confidently over to the Terminal, maintaining the dignity of a Hotsuin: male or female.

Makoto trailed after him, and they stopped before the Terminal.

“Mistress Hotsuin, we have sent others with your necessary items to receive you,” the young miko said, her tone flat and distant. “They will ensure your arrival will be safe.”

Yamato nodded to show he had heard, and very carefully brushed his fingers over the charm around his neck. It was a subtle illusion charm, nothing strong enough to trigger any wards that the Kageyama may have. The illusion was weak, but it was simply to cover up any masculine aspects of himself; such as his Adam’s apple. He was dressed like a woman, could adopt a womanly voice and womanly mannerisms, so the weak illusion worked with that to just make them ignorant of the fine details.

Of course, if Yamato stripped naked it would not disguise his privates. He had something else for that.

“Sako?”

“The charm seems to be working to full effect, Ma’am,” Makoto replied. “I think we are ready.”

“Wonderful,” Yamato said with faux-cheerfulness. He clasped his hands together, his lips curving into a gentle smile of feminine purity – however his grey eyes remained cold. “Then let us get this ordeal over with.”

The miko bowed and moved away, and in the next instant, the Terminal began to glow.

* * *

 

“Nervous?”

“Kind of,” Hiro laughed, adjusting his five-kamon kimono anxiously. He had been told that he was to end the feud between the Kageyama and Hotsuin families (a rather infamous feud, although nobody really knew what started it, something about a dragon and stealing a stream, or something strange like that), and that was pretty nerve-wracking business.

He supposed he should feel upset that his wife was chosen for him, but he had expected that since he was very small. He was part of one of the most powerful families in Japan, so he didn’t exactly have the luxury of choice when it came to finding something to father an heir with. It was sad, but he had been at peace with it for a long while.

“I heard that the women of the Hotsuin family are incredibly gorgeous,” Daichi sighed, looking a bit dazed as he went off into his own fantasy. “I saw one once – she was a branch family member, but she had the most beautiful legs I had ever seen! They’re all built like deer!”

“That doesn’t really bring up an attractive image, Daichi,” Hiro laughed.

“You get what I mean! Trust me, you’re a very lucky person to be married to a beautiful woman like that,” Daichi said solemnly.

“We haven’t even met her! For all we know they could be sending their ugliest woman,” Hiro pointed out. He smiled a little, “not that it would matter if she was. I just hope she isn’t…boring or, anything like that.”

“Well-” Daichi began, but was cut off when the sliding door was opened. A maid gestured excitedly. “Master Kageyama, your bride has arrived!”

“Let’s see then,” Hiro sighed, exchanging smiles with Daichi before following after the maid. They were led to the meeting hall where all guests who arrived from the Terminal were relocated to. The maid opened the door and stepped aside, bowing to him as he stepped into the hall.

His eyes immediately fell on his father, a man who bore a striking resemblance to Hiro, with the exception of his eyes. Hiro’s father, Tetsuo, had married a foreign woman with great spiritual power, which had caused a great ripple throughout the assorted families. It was that woman where Hiro had gained his brilliant blue eyes from. Sadly, his mother had passed away a few short years after he was born, having caught an illness after his birth that lingered poisonously.

Tetsuo beamed, his expression as open and friendly as his son’s. “Ah, here he is now, with his friend, Shijima. Hiro, this is Miyako Hotsuin, your bride. She is from a very prominent family.”

Hiro knew. His father had practically talked his ears off with how he was to be  _extremely_  careful around the female Hotsuin heir. The Hotsuin family were a spiritually powerful clan whose expertise lay in spirits and assassinations. They could summon violent demons and completely dominate their will, they could make volcanoes erupt, the sky rain fire, and plagues to crawl out of the earth to devour all crops…well, those were exaggerated rumours, but within them was a seed of truth.

 _“You will be marrying a tigress,”_  Tetsuo had told him,  _“so do not let your guard down lest she swallows you whole.”_

Hiro stepped forwards, his eyes falling on the Hotsuin bride for the first time.

Daichi hadn’t been exaggerating: she was beautiful.

Miyako was quite tall for a woman, and her shoulders slightly broad, but her entire body was slim and long-legged, as delicately built as a young doe. The dark colouring of her wedding kimono emphasised her startlingly pale skin, almost making it glow subtly in the light, and made her seem even more petite (and somewhat flat in the chest area, although it somehow worked together quite well).

There was also a beautiful red and white flowers ornament in Miyako’s hair, red beads hanging down past her ear. Taking all of this in, Hiro’s soon-to-be bride was a stunning creature of pure beauty – especially when he examined her face; sharp cheekbones, narrow eyes with dark, thick eyelashes, and thin lips. Her hair was a bit uncontrolled, but it somehow fit her.

Miyako’s eyes were steel grey, and cold and sharp as any blade however, and Hiro had the faint feeling that he was being evaluated as he gazed into them. He didn’t break eye contact with her, and there was a heavy pause where Hiro and Miyako simply sized each other up.

Hiro smiled brightly, offering a little bow to her. “A pleasure to meet you, Mistress Hotsuin.”

“Yes,” Miyako murmured, her voice low and husky. It was strangely deep for a woman’s voice, but not uncomfortably so. “I suppose it is.”

As Hiro straightened up from his bow, he found that Miyako was smirking at him, as if profoundly amused over something. She was like some ice spirit, cold and malevolent, yet Hiro wasn’t offended by it. He found himself grinning back.

Well, he had been worried that he would be married to a boring woman, but it seemed that that wouldn’t be the case. This Miyako Hotsuin, she was clearly very dangerous.

And exciting.

“Well,” Tetsuo broke the sudden silence, clapping his hands together. “We should hurry on with the ceremony! It’s about time this silly feud ends, hm?”

Miyako’s cold eyes flashed slightly, and when she smiled, it was a grin that would be most likely found on a housecat before it crunched off the head of a rat. “Indeed. Let us not waste time with trivialities.”

As everyone began to bustle, Hiro watched as Miyako’s female attendant – an equally tall, dark haired woman with a stern face – lean in to murmur into the Hotsuin heiress’s ear. Miyako merely flicked her away dismissively with her hand, and the dark haired woman obediently backed off with a demure, “Yes, Ma’am.”

Cold grey eyes landed on Hiro, and those thin lips curved into that housecat smile again.

“We will meet again shortly, Kageyama,” she said, her eyes fluttering slightly as she deliberately dropped any respectful titles. “I hope we will enjoy a full and  _long_  life together.”

Miyako’s voice carried a hint of laughter to it, and Hiro had guessed that she was making a very casual, thinly veiled threat. He wasn’t at all perturbed though, and merely smiled in response. “I hope the same. It would be a shame if one of us became a widower at such a young age.”

Instead of being disgruntled at the rebuttal, Miyako instead looked greatly pleased. “Hrn, a spine. At least you are interesting,” she remarked to herself, and before Hiro could question her, she walked off with strong, predatory strides, her female assistant following in her majestic wake.

Beside him, Daichi let out a shaky whistle. “That…is one poisonous woman. Beautiful or not, I doubt you’d last past today, Hiro.”

“I think I’m fine,” Hiro said, smiling happily. “I think she likes me.”

Daichi just stared at him. “You are insane.”

“Probably.”

Hiro knew it to be true though. At the very least, he had passed some sort of test with Miyako. He felt that it was a wonderful start to a situation neither of them really wanted.

If anything, it’d be interesting while it lasted. 


	2. Alien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The differences between the Hotsuin and Kageyama clans were great – their culture was extremely alien to one another.

Even if Yamato’s mission ended in failure, he knew that at the very least they would have valuable information to bring back on how the Kageyama family operated. They were like an alien race compared to the Hotsuin family. They were friendly and open, yet simultaneously composed and unreadable. They were a family of contradiction and mystery, and it admittedly piqued Yamato’s interest.

He had only heard of them before this mission. They were a family they had feuded with ever since they stole their artefact, but the history went deeper than that. Before the theft, the Hotsuin and Kageyama clan were very close. Although they differed greatly in temperaments and outlooks, the two Heads of the clans had a bond normally shared by brothers, their differences complimenting one another greatly.

No one was certain why or how the theft occurred. The artefact was the Hotsuin’s greatest treasure, and the Kageyama – especially the head at the time - were not the power hungry types. They were very honourable, and would never do anything to betray their allies. Even two hundred years after the theft, they were regarded as the noblest of clans.

So why did the theft occur? Why did the head of the Kageyama clan steal the precious artefact from a man like a brother to him? No one knew, and in the flow of time, people no longer cared for the reason, only that it happened.

There was a period of time after the theft where the families were still allies, and it was only when the two heads died – at the same time, battling a great demon, a most honourable death – that the feud exploded. The Kageyama stoically withstood the accusations of the Hotsuin, and they broke apart, a great alliance cast aside over a crime that happened five years prior.

It was ridiculous in Yamato’s opinion. There was obviously more to the story, especially as so many years went by after the ‘theft’ before accusations were thrown. It was suspicious how it happened only after the Hotsuin head, and the Kageyama head, died. It was suspicious and stupid, and yet Yamato was a slave to the will of the Hotsuin, so he would carry out his mission despite his personal opinions.

It was the Hotsuin way.

At least this mission was interesting in some way, despite Yamato’s misgivings. The Kageyama were interesting to observe this close, and Yamato logged away each and every interaction he had with the family for further investigation at a later date. They were so open with their emotions, yet so calm and adaptable. They were never discouraged by Yamato’s coldness, acting as if he was just as friendly and open as them – yet they knew when to respect his space, and when he was shutting down conversation, moving away gracefully as if they had planned the conversation to end right there all along.

It was downright puzzling and intriguing.

But not as intriguing as his, ahah, ‘husband’. After they had been officially married by the Shinto shrine located on the Kageyama grounds, Yamato did not interact that much with ‘Hiro’. There were the speeches! The feast! The entertainment! Celebration!

There was so much activity for celebrating the bondage of two people. It was completely unlike the Hotsuin way.

It was so…so  _draining_.

Yamato could do many things for a prolonged amount of time, but the festivities over something as minor as a marriage was threatening to exhaust even his mental stamina. His only consolation was that the Kageyama were so  _understanding_  of it all, letting him retreat to the edge of the celebrations with Makoto to recover every hour.

Puzzling and intriguing and frightening…these Kageyama creatures…

“It’s been hours…” Makoto murmured beside him. The sky was darkened into a navy hue at this point, little white stars twinkling down on them, joined by the zipping, dizzying sparks of fireflies. “The stamina this clan has is monstrous.”

“They waste it on such things as revelry,” Yamato pointed out, the beads of his hair ornament clinking together delicately from the breeze of his fan. The air was beginning to cool from its earlier humidity with the evening, but he still felt somewhat overheated. He just wanted to get out of this damned kimono and go to bed. “I do not know if that is foolish or frightening. They are still a powerful clan, even if they waste precious energies on activities like these.”

Makoto nodded in solemn agreement. “Ma’am, I have made several important observations.”

“Is that so?” Yamato glanced at her, his eyelashes lowered in a somewhat sultry expression. He fought the smirk that threatened to overcome him as his assistant grimaced. “Please, tell.”

Makoto valiantly recovered, turning her gaze to the party happening beyond their little private space. The grounds were large and beautiful, Yamato could admit that, and they were currently standing beneath a Cherry Blossom tree, although it was too late in the season for the aesthetic pink petals to be blooming.

“All information given beforehand is deemed correct. The Shijima clan is still their greatest ally, and the Kujou and Yanagiya clans still hold favourable alliances. They also have unaffiliated, minor clans bolstering their numbers.”

“The Kageyama family is very charismatic,” Yamato stated, “It is unsurprising that they have so many allies. Why else have the Hotsuin not simply eliminated them?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Makoto flushed a little. “I have also learned that Hiro Kageyama is indeed the sole child and heir to the clan. The next heir is a cousin.”

Yamato nodded. For all of their charisma and power, the Kageyama clan had a certain flaw. They only ever sired one child; therefore the branch family were mostly relatives of those marrying into the family. No one knew why the main branch only had one child, but history depicted that it was a series of unfortunate events. Death, illness, bad luck…all of those things constantly struck down any further chances of offspring.

It was a curious thing, perhaps a curse from a powerful demon, but no matter – it meant there wouldn’t be any…’surprises’, if Hiro was the sole heir.

 “Hm, well at least we have established that all information gathered beforehand is correct,” Yamato said simply, snapping his fan shut and tucking it into his obi. “It makes things easier. Observe and compile a _mental_  report. Write nothing down. Now, go and mingle.”

“M-Mingle?” Makoto looked a bit nervous at this, and Yamato didn’t blame her. “I- yes, of course, ma’am. I will endeavour to find out all that I can.”

Yamato watched Makoto reluctantly head back into the fray, and lifted his hand up to adjust his hair ornament slightly. He was being a bit lazy here, but since he was to go through this ordeal for months, or even a year, without detection, he was going to grab any relief he could get – even if it meant feeding Makoto to the wolves.

She is a loyal member of the Hotsuin family. She understood.

“Hiding here, huh?”

Yamato almost jumped, but smoothly adjusted the twitch of surprise into a graceful flick of his fingers, tucking a lock of hair behind his ears. “…Hiro,” he greeted carefully, crossing his arms lightly over his padded chest and offering up a cold smile. “Tiring of the festivities?”

“I can ask the same of you,” Hiro said, stopping a little away from her. He was a handsome young man; Yamato would give him that, possessing that strange open yet composed quality of the Kageyama’s. However, he was different in one aspect, and that was his eyes; an eerie, brilliant blue, as vivid as a clear sky before the storm clouds rolled in.

“It is far too energetic for me,” Yamato admitted. He uncrossed his arms, settling one hand on his hip in a rather casual gesture. “The Hotsuin are far more…reserved, with their celebrations.”

“We’re both very different,” Hiro laughed, the noise easy and carefree. He moved a little closer, his zori crunching on the dried leaves from the cherry blossom tree. Yamato watched him carefully, his eyelashes lowered.

Hiro returned the gaze with a smile.

“So…” he said, clapping his hands together as his smile became a little awkward. “If you want to retire to your rooms, you can. No one will hold it against you.”

“Hrm, as alien as this is to me, I will do whatever duty handed to me, even if it is to simply stand there and look pretty for the masses.”

“Duty…? This is just something for everyone to use as an excuse to get drunk and party,” Hiro said, sounding a bit bemused. “If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be here, even if you are the bride – er, the guest of honour.”

“What strange logic,” Yamato remarked, “Will everyone share your outlook, I wonder…”

“Probably, probably not,” Hiro said easily. He was looking up at the tree above, as if gauging the distance between him and lowest hanging branch. “I know you were probably, I don’t know, thrown into this like I was, so I don’t want to force you to do anything else you don’t want to.”

Yamato’s fingers itched to have the fan in his hands, wanting something to fidget with, but he suppressed the weakness. “I see. How do you know that I was not leaping with joy at this arranged marriage?”

“Were you?” Hiro asked. His gaze dropped from the branch and snagged Yamato’s in an intense stare. His expression was soft though, a faint smile on his lips and for a moment…Yamato wasn’t certain. Something about the open and gentle expression was enough to shake a previously intractable cord in him.

“I- of course not,” Yamato scoffed, tearing his gaze away. He felt troubled. “For all I knew, I was being married off to a rather weak person.”

“Weak? Not ugly or pervy or anything?” Hiro sounded amused. “Er, just for the record, I’m not a pervert. So, you know, no random fondlings or anything, just because we’re married.”

Yamato just turned to stare at him, one eyebrow delicately raised. Hiro simply returned the stare with a sheepish grin, his cheeks a faint red.

“W-What’s that look for? I was just saying in case it was a concern of yours.”

“Mmm…a rather specific, random denial,” Yamato mused, deciding to toy with this boy a little. “It makes me suspicious.”

“Oh come on,” Hiro pressed his lips together in a pout, and the gesture looked so – childishly endearing. “I’m a man of honour, Miyako, and I don’t like making ladies uncomfortable.”

Yamato chuckled, tipping his head back with his eyes closed. “…yes, the Kageyama’s are well known for their chivalry. A strange concept, that.”

“What do you mean?”

Hiro sounded earnestly curious. Yamato lowered his head and cracked open an eye to regard him beneath his eyelashes.

“…gender is of no consequence to the Hotsuin. Be you male or female, you will follow the will of the Hotsuin, even if that will leads you to death. Of course, there are some mild preferences on gender. Females are far more powerful in the spiritual sense than the males, so they are more valued.”

Hiro looked faintly fascinated by this. “So women deal with the spiritual side of things? Well it’s not so different here. They do healing-”

“No,” Yamato interrupted. “The women are powerful, so why waste them in arts like those? Healing is something better suited to those with weaker spiritual strength, as it requires precision and the physical stamina to maintain it. The males, therefore, are better suited to the healing arts, or subterfuge. The women are better suited as Demon Tamers or warriors.”

“Huh…” Hiro rubbed his chin. “So all men are support, and all women are offensive…?”

“Not as black and white as that,” Yamato said, “but it is the majority. My- brother,” It was bizarre to think of Miyako as his brother, but- “for instance is a Demon Tamer. However, despite possessing the ability to match female spiritual strength, he is still better suited to subterfuge.”

“Your brother is a spy then?” Hiro frowned. “I wouldn’t have thought the Hotsuin family would willingly throw their male heir out in the line of fire like that.”

“Were you not listening? Females are higher prized. He is male, and his use is in subterfuge, so that is what he will do,” Yamato said, a slight edge to his tone. “His entire being is a tool to the Hotsuin, and if he is commanded to infiltrate a cult by using his body as payment, then that is what he will do. That is the Hotsuin way.”

Hiro was giving him an unreadable look. “The Hotsuin way, huh…? Does that apply to you, too?”

“Of course. I am a tool as well, as are you,” Yamato said, finally giving into his urges and grasping his fan. He snapped it open, and fanned it idly, but mostly used it to hide a portion of his face. “We are being used to mend a feud that has gone on for too long, that is all. My purpose is to utilise my new position of your wife to mend our clans’ relationship. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“That must be sad,” Hiro remarked, “to think of yourself like that.”

“I think of everyone like that,” Yamato corrected. “We are all pawns for something or other. That’s all there is to it.”

Hiro stared at him before smiling abruptly. “Alright. In that case, I deem it my purpose to at least make sure you’re somewhat happy with this. That’s a husband’s job anyway.”

Yamato’s fan paused its movements, dipping towards the ground slightly, before its owner laughed. “What? You are a fool. Such a simplistic goal? Shouldn’t it be to glean every secret about the Hotsuin clan from me? To learn of our special ways?”

“Probably,” Hiro shrugged carelessly. “But I really don’t care about that. Tell me if you want, or don’t. The bigger challenge is making you happy, it seems.”

“You are a strange boy,” Yamato sighed. “You positively  _drain_  me…”

“I’ll leave you to recharge then. Remember, you can leave whenever you want – and maybe take your, erm, friend, with you,” Hiro’s expression creased with sympathy, “She looks like she’s going to pass out from fear at any moment.”

He left then, returning to the warm festivities. Yamato stood beneath the tree, gripping the fan so tightly he could feel its delicate frame threaten to break.

Hiro Kageyama was more than Yamato expected, more mysterious and confusing and strange…

He fanned himself anxiously.

What a frightening man.

 

* * *

 

When the clock struck midnight, Hiro decided that he should call it a night. He wasn’t really that big of a partier, he had lost Daichi to some group of pretty women, and not even he could keep up with his father’s infamous stamina for drinking and partying. Really, for a clan head the man still acted like he was twenty years old.

“I’m going to rescue Miyako now,” Hiro told his father, smoothly interjecting between one of Tetsuo’s bursts of laughter. They were discussing an old hunting story – Hiro had heard it a thousand times, but Tetsuo still seemed to think it was hilarious after so many retellings. Such a weird guy.

“Ah…? Oh! Oh, right, ah, son,” Tetsuo gestured a bit drunkenly, but Hiro leaned in obediently despite the foreboding feeling curling in his gut. “Remember, what I said? The Hotsuin are very cunning and sly – the men more than the women, but still. Remember to keep her hands in sight at all times tonight.”

“…eh?” Hiro gave him a confused look, but his father simply winked knowingly - …and then it sunk in. “Oh! Dad! No – don’t talk to me about that!”

“Also, I have heard from some lucky individuals that they are a bit, erhm, _wild_  in bed so-”

“I’m going to bed!” Hiro declared, walking off quickly with his father’s laughter following him. God! He really wasn’t that bashful when it came to sex, but he still didn’t want to discuss it with his dad!

His face was cooled off a bit when he found Miyako, talking quietly to her assistant – um, Makoto, was it? Grey eyes glanced at him when he approached, and his, his wife (still weird to think that) turned to him in one graceful movement.

“Yes?”

“Ah, well, I’m leaving the party,” Hiro told her, glancing awkwardly at Makoto. “So you definitely can leave now if you want to.”

“With you?” Miyako asked, her face perfectly blank.

Hiro guessed what she was asking, and he glanced again at Makoto – who was looking away with an uncomfortable look on her face. Well, glad to know he wasn’t the only one awkward about this.

“Well, if you want to. I can lead you to your quarters. They’re next to mine.”

“Hmm…” Miyako inclined her head slightly. “Very well. Sako, you know where you are residing, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Go there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Makoto – or Sako apparently – gave a slight bow to the both of them, before striding off.

Hiro found the interaction a bit…weird, but as his talk with Miyako earlier taught him, the Hotsuin family were a very strange, alien people. He should try to learn a little more about them first before commenting on her rather cold relationship with her assistant or whatever

“So…this way.”

They left the party and into the vastly quieter building complex. Miyako followed about one step behind him, slightly to his left, practically prowling. Hiro fought the urge to look over his shoulder, the hairs on the back of his neck rising a little. He felt like he was being stalked by some predator with Miyako at his back.

They reached the corridor, and Hiro paused outside of his wife’s bedroom. It was beside his, as he said. “Here we are! All of your belongings are already in there.”

Miyako nodded, staring at the door, her brow slightly furrowed. After a pause she turned to him, her hand settling on her hip. “Are you planning on consummating this?”

“…er,” Hiro never felt more awkward in his life. “Only if you’re comfortable with it. Like I said earlier, I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to. It’s not like we have to- consummate.”

Miyako stared at him intently, and Hiro resisted the urge to squirm, feeling like her gaze was stripping him right down to the bone. After a pause her lips quirked into a slight smirk, her cold eyes glancing away.

“Very well. Goodnight, Hiro.”

“Ah, goodnight.”

Miyako vanished into her room without another word, the door closing behind her with a soft sound. Hiro stood there, his heart pounding slightly, feeling like he had just dodged a knife thrown at him. Well…his dad did warn him about how sly they were – maybe she would’ve retaliated in some unpleasant manner if Hiro forced the issue.

He frowned. Not that he would’ve. He meant it when he said he didn’t like making women uncomfortable – that and…Hiro wasn’t comfortable in just sleeping with her without barely knowing her. It was too…something. Especially with her earlier talk of being a tool.

“Ahh…” Hiro rubbed at his hair. He’ll tackle her tomorrow. He had the rest of his life to handle the prickly and dangerous Miyako Hotsuin anyway.

How hard could it be, anyway?


	3. Manipulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiro wants to get to know his wife better – Yamato just wants to gain more leverage for his mission.

Hiro watched as a dragonfly lazily zipped over the surface of the koi pond, the humid summer air filled with the buzzing of insects and the chirp of birds. It was one of the hottest summers in recent years, and Hiro spent it half sprawled over the wooden porch leading out to the garden, a fan clutched in his hand. The cool air was more than welcome, but the heat still sapped him of energy.

 

“This is so dull,” Daichi sighed at his side. His friend was sitting up properly, his legs crossed, and the beginnings of a tan darkening his face. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, one that not even his fan could dry. “It’s too hot to do anything.”

 

Hiro made a small, agreeable noise. “Well. We could go down to the river and splash about.”

 

“And deal with the Kelpie there? No way. Last time it took my clothes!”

 

Hiro sniggered quietly at that. “She was just messing with you,” he lightly sang, snapping his fan closed and pushing himself up. He leaned back on his hands, stretching his legs out to hang them over the edge of the wooden porch, his bare feet just brushing over the dry grass. “There’s nothing else to do, unless you want to go to town. See if they have any shaved ice in this heat.”

 

Daichi perked up a bit at that. “Yeah! Hey, can we invite Io? She hasn’t been out recently.”

 

“Mm…” Hiro tilted his head to the side, glancing at his friend from the corner of his eye. “The Nitta clan are busy with That Ritual, but yeah. Io’s becoming a hermit and that’s unacceptable.”

 

“Yeah,” Daichi worried his bottom lip briefly, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. It was clear that he was worried, but Hiro didn’t blame him. At the end of the summer, the female heir of the Nitta clan had to Soul-Bond with their Guardian God. Hiro didn’t know much about it, even if the Nitta and Kageyama Clan were extremely tight-knit there were still clan secrets, but he knew that there was a high chance of death. The last Nitta Hier died a few years ago.

 

Gruesomely.

 

Hiro had faith that Io would survive though. Although she was quiet and soft-spoken, there was a small core of steel hidden beneath the fluff. No doubt she was fretting though, so it was Hiro and Daichi’s duty as her friends to take her mind off of it.

 

He rose to his feet, tucking his fan into his yukata’s obi. “I’ll send a Pixie to deliver the message, and we’ll pick her up. You got Sleipnir?”

 

“I always have Sleipnir,” Daichi replied. “Like I would walk to your house every day – especially in this heat!”

 

“Fair point.”  

 

Hiro left his friend behind on the porch, padding into the interior of the estate. It was a wide, sprawling complex, where they house a majority of the extended Kageyama clan. Since the main branch only had one child per generation, it seemed like a waste to have the entire complex only for the main branch. Due to the heat though, most of the children of his extended family were running about inside, and he almost tripped over several of them when they darted out into the corridors, laughing and giggling as they played their games.

 

He reached his room and slid open the door – only to pause and glance at the one beside his. It had been a week since his marriage, and he hadn’t really seen much of his wife. Oh, she appeared for meals, and carried conversations with him in her usual cold, distant manner, but otherwise she remained in her room. Hiro didn’t try to coax her out, supposing that she was simply adjusting to her new surroundings but…

 

Well, if he wasn’t allowing Io to become a hermit, he couldn’t let his new wife be one either, right? And he promised to try and make her happy. The life of a Hotsuin sounded a bit sad to him. To think of one’s self as nothing but a tool, your opinions and feelings ignored for the sake of the clan…

 

Hiro understood it, after all he was in an arranged marriage, but he also knew he was lucky in that his father allowed him to do whatever he wished, and didn’t try to obstruct him from happiness.

 

Decision made, he stepped into his room. It took a few minutes to find his Pixie summoning scroll, and a bit of blood on the inked paper summoned his oldest companion before him. She arrived in a crackle of energy, her translucent, delicate wings catching the sunlight seeping through his window and scattering it almost like stained glass.

 

“Mmhmm~ hey there, Hiro~” Pixie greeted, doing a little flip and hovering in mid air as if sprawled out on her stomach, her little hands cupping her cheeks. Her expression was mischievous. “What’s this I hear of you getting married?”

 

“You heard? Did dad’s High Pixie tell you?” Hiro mock-pouted. “I wanted to tell you myself! Ahah, but yeah, I’m married now. We mended the feud with the Hotsuin.”

 

“Oooooh~” Pixie straightened up, her wings fluttering faster. “You’re married to one of _those_? They’re pretty dangerous. Hope you don’t get gobbled up in one bite, hee~”

 

Hiro eyed her curiously. “You met them before?”

 

“Mm, once. Before I served the Kageyama, I served the Hotsuin clan! I’m a pretty old fairy, you know, but shush!” Pixie pressed a finger against her lips. “I was with them about, mmm, I think two hundred years ago in human time?”

 

That definitely caught Hiro’s interest. “Wait, when the Hotsuin and Kageyama clan were friends?”

 

“Yup! I served the Head of the Hotsuin clan, before they got all grumpy over the, um, I dunno,” Pixie frowned in thought. “I forget what it is that broke the friendship. All I know was that it was incredibly dumb. But it only happened after the head of both clans died.”

 

“I heard about that,” Hiro said quietly. “Dad said that we were accused of stealing something, and something about a stream?”

 

Pixie shrugged. “Like I said, it was dumb. But oh oh, wanna hear something juicy?” she fluttered closer, looking about them conspiratorially before leaning in to whisper; “Apparently there was a bit of tension building between the Head Hotsuin, and the Hotsuin clan itself before he died. They had been arguing over something he had done with the head of the Kageyama clan. I don’t know about what, because I was then given to the Kageyama clan, and then they both died.”

 

Hiro digested this. “…why didn’t you ever mention this before?”

 

“Hee~” Pixie giggled, fluttering away and adopting a mischievous expression. “You never asked! But since you’re married to one, I thought I should share some old gossip. Not sure how relevant it is now, since it’s ancient history…”

 

“Makes sense…” Hiro said slowly. He was intrigued though. The old Head Hotsuin had been arguing with his own clan? That was a bit unusual, considering what he had learned about them. Why would the Head Hotsuin, part of a family that fostered slavish devotion to the clan’s will, be fighting against them? Hiro supposed he would never know. It was two hundred years ago and, as Pixie said, ancient history.

 

Probably not important.

 

“Well, aside from that gossip,” Hiro said after a pause. “Mind sending a message to Io? We’re going to kidnap her and take her out on a day of fun.”

 

“Oh~” Pixie clapped her hands together. “Sure! I’ll be there and back in a jiffy!”

 

With that, Pixie vanished in a crackle of energy. Hiro rolled up the half-forgotten summoning scroll, and tucked it into the drawer on his bedside table. Right, now for his next task; convincing Miyako to come along to this little outing.

 

After all, if she was his wife, she would have to get used to hanging out with Hiro’s friends – and he was determined to try and enjoy life, instead of chugging through it thinking herself as a tool. Admittedly, he didn’t understand how Hotsuins thought, and maybe he was being a bit insensitive but, there was nothing wrong about making friends.

 

Right?

 

* * *

 

Yamato _loathed_ the summer heat.

 

It didn’t help that to keep up with his role of Kageyama’s wife, he had to apply make up on every day. He feared that if he even stepped outside it would start to smudge from sweating – and Hotsuin didn’t sweat. He refused to sweat. So he remained in his room, uncaring of how hermit-like it was, and busied himself by researching various summoning techniques.

 

Just because he was a wife now didn’t mean he should allow his education or skills to rust. He would have to find a way to practice his magic as well, hopefully out of sight from the Kageyama’s. The Hotsuin had many secret techniques that should stay out from prying eyes…

 

There was a sudden knock on his door, and Yamato swiftly closed the book he had been reading, tucking it beneath a few sheaves of paper. He rose to his feet, snapping out his fan and obscuring the bottom half of his face before approaching the door cautiously. He couldn’t think who could be visiting him now – Makoto was ordered to memorise the layout of the complex for the next few days, as well as the surrounding area. She shouldn’t be finished yet.

 

He opened the door, blinking in surprise at seeing Hiro standing before him in a light, summer yukata.

 

“…yes?” he asked, lowering his fan a little to frown openly at his, ergh, _husband_.

 

“Hey,” Hiro smiled at him, lifting his hand up in an almost awkward wave. “You’ve been cooped up in your room for a while. Just wondering if you wanted to go out with me?”

 

“…go out?” Yamato asked, his eyes narrowing a little. Out into the scorching heat? He would burn within minutes unless he covered up – or cast a charm to nullify the harmful effects of the sunlight. That would take _effort_ though, and in this heat that sapped energy, it would just be a headache to maintain for a long amount of time.

 

“Yeah. Don’t worry, I can give you a charm so you won’t burn,” Hiro said, as if sensing Yamato’s thoughts. The Kageyama’s gaze drifted down to Yamato’s bared forearm, his yukata sleeve rolled back to reveal the snow-white skin. “Hopefully. You look like a cloudy day could reduce you to ashes.”

 

Yamato made an unimpressed noise. “I am not a fan of summer days.”

 

“We’re not planning on staying outside either,” Hiro continued, looking back up at him. “We’re going to the nearby town to get something to eat and cool off from the heat. Daichi and Io are coming with as well.”

 

Yamato’s kneejerk reaction was to refuse and close the door on his husband’s face, but paused. Well, his mission was to get as close to Hiro as possible, to wrench as many secrets from the naïve heir as he could, especially about the Dragon Stream. Makoto couldn’t do that for him – well, she could, but Yamato doubted her ability to seduce someone successfully, and who knows what complications would arise from the Kageyama heir having an affair (although, perhaps the ‘insult’ against him could be leverage enough for them to demand the Dragon Stream as compensation, it was a route to consider) .

 

He tapped the close fan against his open palm. He didn’t need to know much about the Shijima clan – they were a peculiar clan of mediocre people who had the ability to gain great power in stressful situations – but the Nitta clan were just as secretive as the Hotsuin. Io Nitta was the heir, and she was to soon channel Lugh… in ancient times, Hotsuin clan and Nitta clan were close allies, but only when the Kageyama had been as well. They had formed a powerful triage that had fallen apart when the friendship between the Hotsuin and Kageyama clan splintered.

 

If Yamato could also pry some information about the Nitta clan…

 

Ergh. Guess he would have to suffer the heat.

 

“…very well. Allow me to prepare.”

 

Hiro brightened, smiling happily at him. “Great! Me and Daichi’ll be waiting by the front gates. We were going to hitch a ride on his Sleipnir but, uh, don’t think it could carry all of us-”

 

“I have my own Sleipnir,” Yamato interrupted. “It will be fine.”

 

“Ah, good,” Hiro’s smile became sheepish, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “See you in a minute then. Don’t take too long.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

Hiro left, and Yamato closed the door behind him. He heaved a great sigh and turned away, scraping his fingers through his hair. Right, now then…

 

What on Earth did women wear for casual outings?

 

* * *

“You’re bringing Miyako?” Daichi groaned when Hiro told him. “This is going to be so awkward…”

 

“Come on, she’s my, er, wife,” Hiro said, shifting back a bit more against the front gate. The shade the towering gates cast were soothing, and when he looked down the road that stretched away from the estate, he could see heat waves rising up from the dirt road. Io’s estate was several miles away, but the town was closer, so it would be easy to simply pick her up and double back into town.

 

“I know, but, she’s so _scary_ ,” Daichi mumbled, his geta kicking up some dry dirt. His kinchaku jostled at the slight movement, the strap almost slipping off of his shoulder, but he hurriedly rescued it before it fell off. “She looks like she’s planning to shank you as soon as your back’s turned.”

 

“That’s just how Hotsuin are, apparently,” Hiro said, shrugging his shoulders a little. “They’re sort of cold and calculating, but it seems mean to simply ignore her or avoid her just because she was raised differently.”

 

“Sometimes you’re too nice, Hiro,” Daichi sighed. “Just hope she doesn’t freak Io out…by the way, did you tell her you were married?”

 

“I haven’t, but I don’t know if dad told her parents, and they told her,” Hiro said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Haven’t had an opportunity to talk to her in a while because of, you know.”

 

“Yeah, same here,” Daichi’s shoulders slumped a little. “I wish she didn’t have to go through with this…”

 

“Yeah, but- oh!” Hiro caught a glimpse of white from the front entrance to the Kageyama complex, “Miyako!”

 

Miyako stepped out into the sun, dressed in a black, floral printed yukata of gold and pale colours.  It was a bit unusual, since younger girls like Miyako were expected to wear brighter colours, but the dark and muted colours suited the Hotsuin quite well. That hair ornament was back in her hair as well, the beads jangling with each, graceful movement.

 

“Hiro,” Miyako greeted once she was in the shade with them, inclining her head towards Hiro regally. Her pale gaze snapped to Daichi, and the brunet squeaked quietly under his breath, straightening up subconsciously. “…Shijima.”

 

“H-Hey, Miyako,” Daichi said nervously, “Er, Mrs. Kageyama- Hotsuin, uh-“

 

“Miyako is fine,” she said coolly, turning away from Daichi in clear disinterest. “Are you ready to leave?” she asked Hiro.

 

“Yeah,” Hiro replied, smiling gently at the cold woman. He nodded to the kinchaku hanging off of her shoulder. “Got everything you need?”

 

“Yes. Shall we summon our Sleipnir?”

 

Hiro nodded, and glanced at Daichi, who quickly fumbled within his kinchaku to bring out the summoning scroll for the horse demon. Miyako mimicked Daichi’s movements more calmly, flicking open her scroll and lifting her thumb to her mouth, her sharp canine nicking the skin with alarming ease.

 

With a crackle of energy, two Sleipnir were summoned at the opened front gates. Daichi’s Sleipnir was shifting excitedly, its multiple legs skittering about in the dust with barely repressed energy. It was just as highly strung as Daichi himself, although it translated well into rapid speed in battle. Nothing could outrun Daichi’s Sleipnir.

 

Miyako’s on the other hand stood there like a statue, barely twitching when its companion almost jostled its side when it greeted it with a quiet whinny. Miyako’s Sleipnir turned its head dismissively, pawing the dust with a small snort.

 

“I get to go on front!” Hiro said quickly, pushing past Daichi and hauling himself up on the exictable Sleipnir with practiced ease. Daichi squawked behind him, and he laughed when his front grabbed the back of his obi, almost dragging him off as they playfully scuffled for the front seat, Daichi’s Sleipnir neighing excitedly and bumping into them to egg them on.

 

By the time Daichi had claimed his rightful place in the front, with Hiro sitting behind him, Miyako was already sitting on her Sleiper, riding side-saddle with her fingers wound firmly in the rainbow coloured mane. She was staring at them with a flat, uncomprehending look.

 

Hiro grinned back cheekily at her, his cheek smudged with dirt and his curly hair impossibly messier as he lifted up a hand. “Alright, we’re ready to go. Wanna race, Miyako?”

 

Miyako’s gaze sharpened, and her lips curved into a cold, cutting smile. Hiro could see a competitive gleam in her pale eyes though, and his own grin was edged with challenge in response.

 

“…as you wish. It would not be much of a challenge, however.”

 

Hiro couldn’t help but laugh at Miyako’s casual arrogance, and Daichi muttered something under his breath about crazy, scary wives. Hiro just dug his fingers into his friend’s side and said, “Alright, on the count of three. One -”

 

He kicked Sleipnir’s sides, and the horse demon bolted off with an excited cry. Daichi almost wobbled off with a shout, and Hiro just laughed, looking behind him to see that Miyako was close on their heels, leaning forwards slightly on her mount.

 

Their gazes met briefly, and Hiro felt a thrill rush through him at the hungry look of determination in his wife’s eyes. Then Hiro had to quickly look forward when Sleipnir leapt over a rock in the road, already running off the beaten path, and grinned wildly to himself as Daichi struggled to maintain his balance on the wild mount.

 

Maybe next time he should bring his own Sleipnir, with just him and Miyako. Seemed like his wife liked a bit of challenge – which was good.

 

He did too. 


End file.
